


Shattered Bits

by Sombereyes



Category: Nana
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sombereyes/pseuds/Sombereyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It crashed onto the floor before you even knew it...it fell, and you could not save it. -A one shot written for a prompt-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered Bits

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'm going to hop around on the writing prompts a bit, since there are so many of them, and there are ones I would like to do more than others. This next one, while pretty fun to write, was also just a tad difficult. It would make since however, given the nature of this prompt, that it belongs in the Nana universe. This is, as the anime itself tends to be, very angst ridden.
> 
> Prompt #27: Write a story about an empty glass.

**Shattered Bits**

It crashed onto the floor before you even knew it...it fell, and you could not save it.

Anger is a cold, harsh mistress, that falls upon a human heart without warning. It does so without the recollection to past events, and without recourse for the future. All the bitterness in the world, means nothing without reflection. That much is true, but purely seething anger, is quite incapable of that. If it were, or rather...more befitting of the blame...if _you_ were able to see beyond what was in front of your nose, perhaps you would not be in a thorny situation.

However, be that as it may, fury is an easy thing to hold onto. When everything else slips away, negativity builds a hovel in which to stay. No matter how much you cry, there is a deep, thick sludge that will never leave. It is just like a mascara, that so easily stains pale cheeks.

Hatred is such a simple emotion, in that it can befall anyone, or anything.

It compels people to do the worst of things, and you know that now. Possessiveness, while a declaration of fondness in it's own way, will only end up tormenting the world around you. Spewing words in haste, that isn't the way to go about things, but you're impulsive, aren't you? You've always been decisive in that way, you know. However, friendship is fragile, and no two relations can ever be quantified. As soon as they are, that meaning is lost. It is a price, and expensive one. No amount of money in the world can pay.

Still, that was something a person such as yourself, could never understand. It wasn't within you, the capacity was something like that of a forbidden fruit. You could see it, reach out and touch it...even taste it...if you wanted to try.

Squarely, the fact remains, is that it was something no one ought to have touched. Even the most gentle of a caress can change it, break it, and you did more than that, in your fury. Pain is an undying, festering, seething hunger. It can only be relinquished with soft, melodic sighs. Tears are merely a salty stream of emptiness, a vastness, lacking in any and all reprimand. After all, you do that enough on your own, because though you tend to contrast the statement, you are a very fragile person indeed.

You don't look it, but you are, in every single way.

Lipstick of blood reds, or darker than midnight blacks, will do nothing to calm your sorrowful soul. Your songs are a craving, of that which can never be found. The want to need another, the need to have another. Even that, a hopeless contradiction. The forceful desires of cryptic, halfhearted statements. Ones that you dreamed in constant nightmarish terror, that you could melt into the shadows. A vexatious scream, if you so choose, with each and every strum of your guitar...each and every lyrical phrase, a lilt in your voice, tells of everything. Even if you were to stand upon the stage naked, the tattoo you sport on your arm, is enough of an identity.

A flower, is also a fragility.

So, it was in it's own way, fitting. Perfect, like a picture, that you met the woman who was so unlike you...so far away from your little, enclosed world, that you had gotten trapped in without realizing. She drew you out...and you pulled her in. So fitting that you look upon the floor, with the answer to your truest self, crushed like that of an angry cry. Let the fragments warn you, let the pain cut deeper than any knife, and any word you've ever sung...because now you know...now, you've begun to understand the monster that lives within the human heart.

The one you've always sung about, but had never truly felt. After all, what could possibly be more broken, than that strawberry glass?

There were only two, and now, there only stands one. There was once a unity, and now, there is little more than solitary confinement, because the shattered fragments can not be put together. Such words, such conflicts, twist and turn in your mind, you don't go to her...no...because such a thing always happens to you. You don't know what it means to have real friends, Nana, because to you, they're only pets.

Playthings, and lovers you easily cast aside. you throw them a bone, and they give you their love, and overwhelming devotion. You toss them out, and they long for you, lingering in the dark, like a hungry puppy, awaiting it's master. You kick them down, and then they whimper while scurrying away, least they be kicked yet again...least they feel the pangs that only you can give them...but they aren't the sad beings Nana, because they know it...have always known it...and yet...they stay.

They cling onto this world desperately, and for them, it's more than just a monetary breath. For them, it's their very lifeblood, and it consumes them because they wish it for it. For most of them, there is a freedom within that. It is one unseen, but always felt. So simple, that most who take things for granted, one such as yourself, would surely miss the subtle implication.

You would not see it, would not feel it...oh, but you will now. You'll understand that loneliness now, because you've no other choice.

Where's your laughter now?  
That easy going smile?  
The casual conversations?  
What about Ren?  
Why do you feel so torn?  
Who's truly in the wrong?

Yet, the one question that circles you the most, like a twisting poison that so easily enrages you, is the one you don't want the answer for. You know who to blame, but that, in and if itself, is like a bile you wish never to accept. If you did, know know what it would mean.

When did that glass really break?

You don't dare to answer though, because you know, deep down within the pit of your soul, it was already shattered long before it hit the ground.


End file.
